


Dance With The Devil (with cover)

by sixxxteentons



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Bondage, D/s, Dominance, F/M, Knifeplay, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixxxteentons/pseuds/sixxxteentons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>C-137 was never one to do his own dirty work if he could pawn it off on somebody else, and everyone knows that hot young blondes make the very best spies. But sending you after his evil self mightn’t have been Rick’s most inspired idea.<br/>(Commissioned by mysticairghuleh.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With The Devil (with cover)

  
  
This was the day. Weeks of preparation had gone into this, and if your life had been a movie, it would have made one Hell of a training montage. Rick, or as you should probably get used to thinking of him, Rick C-137 had meticulously, if not always coherently, instructed you on what he knew about his competitor, the layout of the fabled evil lair, what your tells were when you lied and, somewhat suspiciously, exactly how you should suck dick. It had been a… struggle not to let the latter kind of lesson take over the schedule completely.  
But this was the moment. You were perched on a stool at the edge of the bar counter in Evil Rick’s favourite haunt, and Rick had texted you the code that said that the prey was about to enter the trap.  
Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure how worried you ought to be about this little operation. Sure, Rick was obviously involved in some pretty heavy shit, but most of it seemed so outlandish and implausible, and the man was so paranoid that it was hard to take it all completely seriously. And this was supposedly your Rick’s… evil self? C-137 seemed plenty evil all on his own. How much worse could this one really be?

You noticed the change in atmosphere before you noticed the man himself. The publican made a gesture of superstition and quickly reached their tentacles up to retrieve the vials, jars and bottles from the top shelf and hide them under the counter. One of the servers made a high pitched gurgle and ran for the staff room, throwing their apron onto the floor as they went. You could have sworn you saw the lights actually flickering. What in God’s name could warrant that kind of reaction?  
You turned in your seat to see for yourself and the apparition in the doorway, who’d apparently paused there for dramatic effect, was much more unnerving than you’d pictured. It looked… well, obviously it looked like Rick - was Rick - separated physically only by the scar across his lips and the dark around his eyes.  
But this man moved differently, carried himself differently, had another layer of suspicion and barely suppressed contempt on his skeletal features that made it seem less like a different side of the same person and more like some other soul had commandeered Rick’s body. It was uncanny to see the same face twisted into so different a scowl.  
  
All of this registered with you in a matter of seconds and it required even less time to realise that boy oh boy, you were in deep over your head here.  
And of course, just as you felt your heart begin to flutter and your hands begin to sweat, his eyes met yours. After all, you were the only other human in view and you had picked this seat on purpose. It was impossible to read his expression - was he surprised? Intrigued? Irritated? His look could mean anything.  
Rick sauntered over to the bar, slid onto a stool close enough to be within earshot but still just barely out of reach and nodded to the bartender. He was obviously enough of a regular not to have to say out loud what he wanted, he just drummed his fingers impatiently on the sticky counter and waited. Everything you’d prepared to catch his interest in the very likely scenario that he didn’t approach first had slipped your mind.  
You wanted to run, phone your Rick asking for backup, blurt out your reason for being here and get whatever punishment he wanted to dish out over and done with. But if you were going to haul ass out of here, you’d still have to wait until it wasn’t quite so obvious why you’d done it. So you stared blankly into the mirror behind the bar, took out a packet of cigarettes from your handbag and fumbled around in the pockets of your jacket for your lighter.  
  
A flame appeared in front of your face and you started and leaned out. Rick had somehow manifested right beside you, close enough that you could smell him, and he held a lighter in his outstretched hand.  
“Allow me.”  
You angled your head, placed the cigarette between your painted lips and took a long drag with the end shaking in and out of the flame.  
“Thank you,” you managed and the expression you saw on his face when you dared to look over was no longer a mystery. Rick looked you up and down with unashamed and predatory interest and he raised his eyebrow.  
“You know, th-there’s a lot of things I like about this bar, but, uh… hot blondes hasn’t really been one of them up until this point…”  
Now, it was important to note that you were not shy by any means. Nor did you have any hangups about the fact that you liked powerful and intimidating men.  
But there was “knows what he’s got and isn’t afraid to use it”-powerful, and then there was “wouldn’t trust him with a butter knife”-intimidating. This, you felt with every nerve in your body and every hair standing on edge along your spine, was definitely the latter kind. And that would have been obvious to anyone even without the villainous prefix.  
So when you spoke again, you knew you were blushing and that there was a slight tremble in your voice. “You don’t waste time, do you?”  
“Hey,” Rick replied with a grin from ear to ear at your bashful reaction. “I’m a bu-uuurgh-sy man. And that-that garter belt says you’re not all that different…”  
It couldn’t be helped - you looked down quickly to make sure the hem of your dress hadn’t rode up to your waist.  
No, you were safe. He’d just been looking very, very closely. Well, two could play at that game, and now that he was being comparatively nice your attraction was winning out over your fear by about a mile.  
“What is it they say? Fortune favours the prepared?”  
Rick’s glass of whiskey was slid across the counter and he grabbed it, savoured the smell and took a sip. “Is that so. So if-if you’re feeling… uh, _prepared_ , then why would you head to a place like this? Earth men not good enough for you?”  
Damn. You’d skipped the plausible excuses and headed straight into sex talk. Well, here goes nothing - you’d just have to hope he didn’t prefer shy violets. “What, can’t a girl experiment?”  
Rick very slowly turned his head and stared at you, long and blank. You shrugged in response and made a sheepish laugh. He grinned as well, shook his head and said “wow. A-alright, you win. I’ve got… yeah. I’ve got no reply smooth enough for that.” He clinked his glass to yours, knocked back the whiskey and made himself comfortable on the stool just beside you.  
  
Wow, it must be a defining trait of Ricks to be forward. Or, and this was a much more flattering thought, you were simply so much his type that other versions of him found you just as irresistible… You hid a smile by taking another sip of your drink. And nearly choked when you felt his warm, rough hand push aside your hair and stroke the back of your neck.  
“Wh-what did you say your name was?”  
“…I didn’t,” you managed and you just knew he’d seen you twist in your seat to give him better access. Oh, this was so going to happen. The mission was just a convenient excuse now, and if you returned to your Rick with nothing more than bruises and cum to show for your efforts, well, it would hardly be neither your fault nor your problem, would it? “It’s Susan.”  
“Rick,” he replied and took your hand in his free one, shook it and ran his index finger against the veins on your slender wrist. “Well, Susan. You think I’m enough of-of an adventure? I mean, I haven’t got more than one tentacle, but I make up for it in other ways…”  
  
—–

“Here we are… don’t judge.”  
The lights flickered on and… well. Whatever you might have imagined from the man’s reputation, this wasn’t it. It was… just a bedroom. Spacious, decent mood lighting, expensive furniture, but arranged haphazardly by someone who had money but wasn’t overly concerned whether or not a guest would be able to tell.  
It wasn’t messy, it wasn’t anally clean.  
It wasn’t a industrial-inspired torture dungeon, it wasn’t an orgy of rococo furniture and red draperies.  
It was just a bedroom, which existed to serve a simple purpose and got used on a near-nightly basis. But there were drawers under the four poster bed and an open door leading to an en suite bathroom… in short, this Rick knew exactly what he was doing and had absolutely nothing to prove.  
  
You turned to him with a smile and walked over to slip your arms around his narrow waist. Just as you were about to say something clever, he leaned down and caught your lips with his.  
His mouth was warm, his lips were soft but there was nothing soft about the way he moved.  
At first, all you could do was shiver, both in excitement and in discomfort. It was Rick in all ways but the way that counted. Just when you’d fallen into a sense of security, forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t really him, tricked by their similarities, he did something unpredicted and unsettling, breaking the illusion and giving you a jolt as you were brought back into the fundamentally creepy reality, forced to remember that this was not your lover.  
It was a stranger in your lover’s skin, someone you knew was callous and cruel and who had no reason in the world to be good to you. And here you were, trapped in his house and every little reminder of his differences just made you more curious.  
How far would he go? How far could you push him?  
He teased your mouth open, slid his tongue against yours, nipped your lips with his teeth and growled menacingly under his breath when your hands came up to steady themselves against his chest, thinking you were trying to push him away. His arms were around you in a flash, pressing your warm, weak body against his, digging his fingertips into your flesh so that any struggle you made would be sure to be painful.  
But he was wrong, you weren’t trying to get away.  
You were falling against him, head spinning with lust, but you still had enough strength to pull at his lab coat, pull up his long sleeved t-shirt to stroke his scared belly and his heaving chest. You pressed your palms to his skin and spread your fingers wide so you could get your hands on as much of him as possible.  
  
Rick grunted and broke the first onslaught of kisses. You took the opportunity to tug his coat off and he laughed at you, grabbed your hair and pulled it back, let it slide through his long fingers. “Oh you’re one eager little girl, aren’t-aren’t you? You always this shameless?”  
“Mmh. With a man like you? Yeah, definitely…”  
You hooked your fingers into his belt and pulled him with you towards the bed, but his smile died on his lips and he shook his head. Before you knew what was happening, he lifted you up and slung your body over his shoulder and walked you there himself.  
“Had a lot of -eurgh- men like me, have you?”  
You only hesitated for a moment, before you spoke a quiet “no”. It was distracting, being at his mercy like this. Rick flung you onto the bed and hissed when you tried to sit up and reach for him.  
“ _Nooo_ no no no. That’s not how this is gonna go, cutie. Lie d-down and lie still. I don’t like being distracted when I work.”  
Fuck. You shivered and obeyed. Rick kicked out one of the drawers from under the bed and got out some long pieces of hemp rope. His cruel grin was back when he looked you up and down and read you like an open book - he soaked in your eager panting, your trembling legs, your wide open eyes and your arms already shifting into an accommodating position.  
  
This little moment of contemplation on his side, it was really unnecessary. You wanted this hot and fast and mean, and you fixed him with a longing stare, smiled back at him and coaxed him.  
“What you waiting for, daddy?” You threw the sentence out casually, but there was a hook at the end. If he chose to indulge you in this, fuck, you’d be putty in his hands.  
But you needn’t worry, it was better than indulgence - Rick visibly shuddered, his eyes grew dark and he drew himself up further to tower over you. “ _Fuck_. Yeah, that’s it - keep calling me that.”  
God, yes. This was how you could tease the monster out, by toying with him, stroking his ego, letting him know the power he had over you and showing him just how to abuse it.  
“What?” You asked with mock innocence as he climbed on top of you and made fast work of your wrists. “Daddy?” The rope was bound tight but not uncomfortable, and he tugged your arms up over your head and fastened them to the bed post.  
“Mmh,” he growled. “Don’t you… don’t try to tease me like that, baby girl. I’m not a patient man…”  
Your leg followed. Rick lifted and bent it so the hem of your dress fell down to your hips, pushed it to the side and tied it into position, looped the rope around the same bedpost and secured it. Watching him work was hypnotising because he was so quick and steady, and it wasn’t until he sat back to admire his own work that you realised he might not have done this purely for show - a few seconds of squirming confirmed it. You were really trapped like this…  
God. He was so methodical, so thorough, and now he had you completely at his mercy and he was just sitting there, looking you up and down while you tested your bindings and smiling to himself. It was enough to make you feel you’d fallen in love with Rick all over again.  
  
“Daddy, please…” you tried to wake him from his contemplation and he blinked, smirked, crawled over to you and ran his hands up and down your body.  
“Sorry, sweetie. You just look so good at my mercy, I hardly know where to-to start. But I think I’ve decided…”  
Rick roughly pulled your dress up around your waist and pulled your thong to one side without a hint of warm up. It was so soaked by now it left a trail of wetness across your skin and you sighed. What would he think of you? Would he admire your body as much as his double? But he gave you no time to doubt, instead he stared lazily down into your eyes to watch your reaction as he shoved two of his fingers in between your folds and deep into your cunt.  
“Ahhh… Rick!”  
His bony, now slippery hand pulled away from your pussy and smacked your thigh, hard. “Didn’t I -urgh- tell you to call me daddy, hm?”  
“I’m sorry… daddy, please don’t stop, you feel so good in me…”  
“Yeah? Just my fingers?”  
Rick grinned and slid them back inside you, this time slow and sleazy. He twisted his hand around, spread them, explored you, found all the angles and all the spots to make you moan for him. And you did. How could you not, when you felt his rough, dry fingers getting slippery and continuing to explore you, pushing up against your wall hard when your shaky voice betrayed what felt best. It’d taken so much guts to come here, in truth you were still scared but it was calling out to you from behind the lust and the alcohol and you were never going to listen to it.  
“God… no, I want more. Come on, I’ll be good, I’ll be a good girl…”  
“That’s for me to decide, you-you little harlot. Shit, you look so good I should just keep you here. You’ve got nothing important to go back to anyway, am I right?”  
  
Well, you had the perfect excuse, didn’t you? You could keep going with this mission and do just what he wanted, stay here collared to his bed, spend all your days taking orders, cleaning up after him and have him use your body in whatever way he saw fit, and tell yourself it was all done in the name of love…  
“N-nothing could be more important than pleasing you, daddy…”  
He was still working his fingers in and out, spreading you almost painfully, watching you squirm, watching your wetness trickling down onto his palm, watching your blushing face and its expression of desperate need. Only the hungry look in his eyes betrayed he was with you in wanting more, the rest of him was the very image of control.  
“Hah. Go on, then. Beg, baby girl.”  
“Ahh… Rick… daddy, please, I need your dick.”  
“Yeah? How bad, hm?”  
“I… god, so bad. I promise, I’ll be so good, I’ll suck it so good for you. Just let me taste it, that’s all I need…”  
Rick reached down with his free hand and unbuckled his belt, and he made sure you were watching as eagerly as he wanted you to. As if you could have looked away, even if you’d been tempted. The way his veins and bones shifted below his skin as he moved, the sound of the zip somehow managing to sound menacing.  
“Ohhh, is that it? I can just… just shove it down your throat and pull out to come aaall over those pretty pink lips, and you’ll be satisfied?”  
“Mhh, yes…”  
Finally, Rick reached into his boxers and eased his dick out and the sight was enough to make you moan. Thick, veiny, so heavy it was surprising it could even stand up without pain but still so hard, just for you.  
  
He laughed at your expression, slipped his fingers out and got between your legs. Rick wasn’t about to waste time now that he had you right where he wanted you. He held his cock, rubbed the head against your cunt to get it nice and wet and slowly eased it inside.  
“Fuck, yes…” you breathed and hooked your free leg behind his back to pull him in further. “Oh, it’s so thick…!”  
Being stretched this far without any real foreplay was so perfect, so selfish, just what you wanted from him. Every inch he gave you you could feel, and when he came to a halt, his hips against your thighs, the head of it pressed gently against your cervix.  
Rick grunted, held your ass with one hand and reached up with the other to grab the fabric of the front of your dress and rip it open.  
The sight of his hungry, selfish scowl, the feel of his slim hips already settling into a fast rhythm and his throbbing cock edging deeper with each thrust and that greedy gesture made you whimper with need.  
You couldn’t help wonder what would egg him on more, if you encouraged him or pretended to protest… but his rough hand was pawing at your breast, grabbing your nipple between two fingers, roughly pulling and pinching and fuck, he was pushing into you so hard he clearly wouldn’t need you to push him.  
“That’s it,” he breathed, sat back, ripped the dress all the way down to your belly so he could admire the view and he thrust his cock in hard to make your tits bounce. “Yeah, that’s better. Show off for me… that’s what you want, r-uurgh-right? To be a good girl for me, let me grope you any way I want?”  
“Mmh, yes daddy…”  
“You gonna make daddy proud? Show him you can suck dick right, t-take it whatever way he wants to give it to you…”  
“Yes, yes please…”  
  
Rick lay down on top of you, held on to you tight and started pushing into you so hard it nearly hurt. Before you could stop it, a whine of pain escaped you and he growled, low and menacing: “Shut the fuck up.”  
Chills leapt up your spine and you tensed. That voice… he wasn’t playing with you. He was going to be obeyed whether it suited you or not - what the hell had you been thinking, letting him tie you up like this? But survival was never top priority and your instinct must be wired all wrong, because his threat just made you want him all the more.  
“Ahh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”  
“Yeah, you will be if you don’t give me what I want.”  
His hand came up to your throat and his palm and his fingers squeezed down around your windpipe, not enough to choke or hurt you, but a clear threat. From now on, it was what he wanted to hear or nothing.  
You rocked under him on the bed, and the pain and the thrill and the fear added so powerfully to the experience that you couldn’t help but moan his name, moan his title over and over under him and help him fuck you harder with your leg and your hips.  
His hands were roaming across your body again, his lips and his teeth explored your pale skin, bit, sucked, his wide tongue tasted your sweat and he groaned under his breath with each thrust.  
“God, your cunt is tight…” he mumbled. “So obedient, so eager to please… the guy that owns you is gonna be a lucky, lucky man.”  
“I… I want it to be you, daddy.” Fuck, you hadn’t known it before you said it, but it was true. Rick - this Rick - was so rough, so powerful, he had an intensity and a frighteningly alert attention focused on you that C-137 never had. Oh, they could both fuck you up but this Rick… he’d actually bother, you could feel it. Brand you, own you, be just as mean and frightening as you would ever want. “Please, you just feel so fucking good…”  
  
He’d be a cruel master, you just knew it. You had to fight yourself not to test him, provoke him and find out if the rumours were true. But that glint in his eyes, the way he looked at you like an animal to be broken, trained, owned… it spoke for itself.  
“You know,” Rick whispered, “I might just have to. After all, _hah_ , it’s not like you can get out of here without my help…” and when his words made you yelp and tense up around him, shivering with pleasure and need, he laughed. And bit down hard on the soft flesh where your neck met your shoulder.  
“Ahhh, God, daddy yes, don’t hold back… please!”  
  
He wasn’t holding back, and fuck, it hurt. You could feel, thought you could hear the sickening pop when his incisors broke the skin and he leaned out just a little to watch the blood spill from the wound, trickle across your skin and soak his sheets.  
The pain brought all your thoughts to a stop, all you could do was lay there and breathe through it and moan with each rivulet that ran down your neck. This must be love because it felt so good to bleed for him…  
“Mmmh, red looks g-ourgh-good on you, my little girl.”  
“Don’t stop, just cut me, taste it… oh, fuck, it feels so good…”  
“Pain slut just as much as a regular slut, huh? Fuck, I’ve really hit the jackpot here…”  
Rick sat back without slowing down his pace and, with his eyes locked on you, got a knife out of his back pocket and flicked it open with a press of a button. The steel glittered in the dim light and you weren’t sure yourself whether your little squeal was out of excitement or fear. Weren’t they pretty much the same anyway?  
“Tell me…” Rick said, his voice low, steady and sounding like it came from a long way off. “Does he know?”  
  
Your heart froze and stopped mid beat. By the time you had enough control over your face to twist it from an expression of shock and fear to one of confusion, you knew it was much too late. Just as in a nightmare, your body was unresponsive and your mind gave you nothing to work with.  
And Rick grinned. He fucked you lazily now, rolling his hips against you as if he didn’t have to think at all to make it happen, and your eyes were transfixed by the blade as he let it trail through the air and then gently, tenderly, ran it down the side of your face, teasing the skin but leaving it whole.  
“Oh, I bet you p-pretended to put up a fight when he suggested it first,” Rick went on as evenly as if he was talking about the weather.  
The metal tickled and you wanted to jerk away from it purely from instinct, but what he’d do if you angered him now must surely be even worse than what he had planned. “Anything to protect that precious ego, am I right?” and he adopted a look of mock outrage when he mimicked you. “’ _Rick, how dare you suggest I whore myself out like that?_ ’”  
  
And he pushed in hard, and you cried out for him and hoped against hope he wouldn’t feel your cunt squeezing around his length, dripping even wetter for him when the edge of his knife pressed against your throat.  
“Does he know this… that this is what you wanted all along, hm? For me to use you, fuck you like you’ve never been fucked and do all the horrible things he hasn’t got the balls to do?”  
Finally you found your voice, and even though you knew it was much too late, the situation demanded you do something. “Rick, please, you’ve got it all wrong…”  
“Oh, _please_.” Rick frowned and bared his bloodied teeth in a scowl. “I was just starting to like you, Susan. Don’t you try to bore me into losing my interest, not now we’re finally starting to-to have fun…”  
  
What was there for you to do? You couldn’t outwit him. If you played stupid, he’d lose the rag completely. And… God, he looked so good with your blood drying on his chin and that mask of gentleness stripped away, with that mad, quiet rage in his eyes and his hunger and his blade.  
He could tell you were mulling it over and had no patience with it.  
Rick lay down on you again and sped up his pace without mercy. His free hand held onto you with fingers digging in so hard they’d bruise and the bed creaked and complained under his onslaught and finally, at last, he brought the knife down and slid it across your skin right below your collarbone and let the blood spill out.  
“Ahh, Rick…! Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”  
It hurt so bad, even though you could tell it was shallow. It was hot and urgent and you pulled on the ropes, the instinct to clamp a hand over it and protect yourself was so strong.  
Each beat of your heart made the blood bubble up from your cuts and each thrust of his cock made you whine and cry out for more.  
“Didn’t know what, sweetie? That I’m more man than him?”  
  
Rick laughed at the very idea and bent his back to lick the blood from your skin, locked his lips over the wound and sucked it down into his throat with a noise of perfect hungry bliss.  
“You’re not his anymore,” he growled and it wasn’t a question. There was no room in that mind for doubt. “You handed yourself over to me the -eurgh- minute you agreed to let him pimp you out…”  
Your mind was spinning. The blood loss and the pain was making you high, the fact that he was lapping up your very life and swallowing it down as if he couldn’t get enough of it, the way his rough clothes and his warm skin rubbed against your cunt each time he forced himself back inside you… you knew you were close.  
If you couldn’t appease him you might very well die here in his arms, and right now when all you wanted was to come for him and be his it didn’t seem like such a bad gamble. All you could do was succumb, and you whispered, “does… does that mean you’ll keep me?”    
“Oh baby girl… you just try to fu-urgh-cking stop me. And I’m not as dumb as that lazy piece of shit, either.” His grip on you tightened and the next sentence was a sharp, threatening hiss. “If you think I’m gonna let you fuck other Ricks, you’ve got another thing coming.”  
His beautiful face was dripping with blood and he tossed the knife onto the bed and leaned in to force your lips together in a rough, greedy kiss.  
God, you could taste your own blood on his tongue, his teeth were stained with it. This gorgeous, creepy, evil old man… You whined into his mouth and kissed him back just as hungrily and you could both feel it, the way your pussy was squeezing him and your hips were tensing around him.  
  
Rick laughed against your lips, cruel and low. “Oh, just do it, baby girl. Come for daddy and he’ll give you a reward…” he sped up, pressed himself down so that his stomach rubbed against you harder and licked your own blood from your lips. “Go on, do what… do what you’re told, my little bitch…”  
How the hell had this happened? You’d been so sure you knew what you were doing when you started all this, but look what he’d reduced you to, and just in a matter of minutes. His touch, his greed, his dick and his knife… you wanted all of it and more and handing yourself over to him to do with you as he pleased, it was more than fair. You just had to know he wanted it, too…  
“Mmhh… does… does this mean I’m yours, daddy?”  
“You’re mine. If-if C-137 is this fucking stupid, he deserves to have you stolen from him…”  
“Oh God, oh God Rick, I’m gonna come…”  
Rick moaned and cooed in encouragement and it hit you then, so good and so hard it made you cry out with pleasure. Your cunt clenched around him and he just kept forcing you open over and over, it was nearly beyond what you could take to have him move but denying him anything couldn’t be further from your mind. “That’s it, baby… be good, say thank you.”  
“Ahh, thank you daddy, thank you, your cock… your cock feels so fucking good…!”  
With a growl of impatience, as if your orgasm was nothing more than a formality, your x on the dotted line, Rick pulled out and left you to moan and twitch on the soaked sheets.  
When you could focus on him again, before the waves of pleasure had ended, he had the knife back in his hand. The other stretched the skin above your breast to keep it taut and he completely ignored your little whines of apprehension and lingering bliss and pressed the tip into your skin. The last remnants of your climax mixed with the sharp pain and now that you didn’t have the rush of need to carry you through it you couldn’t bite back a cry of agony as he carved a shape into your flesh.  
“ _Shut up_ ,” he snarled and kept going. The blade retreated after a second, and he started on another shape. “I’m giving you your reward. Didn’t you want one?”  
  
You bit down on your tongue and tried to twist your neck so you could see what he was doing - it was a letter? A number? It was impossible to make out clearly at this angle through the blood and the messy, jagged cuts, but fuck…  
“Your… it’s your dimension code…?”  
“Yeahhhh,” he growled. Rick put the finishing touches on the last symbol, leaned in and licked his masterpiece clean with one stroke of his broad tongue. Then he sat back, grabbed his cock in his hand, dripping with your blood, smeared it up and down his length and groaned in pleasure when he finally gave himself some relief.  
“You try to get… to stray from me now,” he murmured. “No other Rick is gonna dare touch you…”  
His black eyes were fixed on the bleeding cuts and every time you whimpered and panted in pain he shivered all over, a smile playing on his gorgeous features. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, he looked so beautiful and terrifying, an angel of death, using your very blood to get himself off.  
It didn’t take him long, just a few lazy, sure strokes of his bony hand, squeezing his length so hard and then with a quiet sigh and a tense, controlled expression he came and you whined in pain when it landed on your fevered, split open skin and seeped into the cuts. That nasty little smile was back when he heard your cry and he finished, the last few drops seeping from the head and trickling down his knuckles.  
“Good girl.” Rick wiped the mess from his fingers on your ruined dress, climbed off the bed and zipped up his trousers. Then he slipped his phone out of his pocket, held it up over you and you saw the green light as the camera came on. “Smile for you-urgh-your ex, sweetie…”


End file.
